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“I think I ate like four of those that night,” Quinn said, watching as young Rae took her first throw, sinking it into one of the 100-point slots and turning to young Quinn with a smirk.

Young Quinn looked stunned, nearly dropping his corndog before taking his own turn.

The pair went back and forth scoring in the 100 and 50-point slots, the game becoming increasingly competitive with the sound of Charlie’s commentating until they were both teasing and laughing together. Even when Rae won.

The video flashed ahead to the two of them standing in front of the dunk tanks again, this time with Rae throwing and Quinn giving instruction until she finally hit the target and dunked a clown. Rae jumped up and down cheering herself on as Quinn stood by laughing and enjoying her victory.

When the screen went black again, the date September 4, 2000 popped up followed by a video of Quinn’s first-ever birthday party that was thrown in this very house.

Next was a baseball game at the local ballpark shortly after they’d met Chris and Jett, then a shaky video from 2002 in which the four of them were constructing one of many blanket forts in Rae’s basement.

“Rae, no way are we putting those girly lights in here,” A twelve-year-old Quinn stated, arms crossed over his chest as Rae brought in a string of white lights. “This isn’t some princess fort- you’re outnumbered.”

“But we need light in here and these are pretty!” eleven-year-old Rae protested. “We already have all the Christmas lights up we’re going to use, Mom said we can have these.”

“No,” Quinn said firmly again. “We already have your girly purple sheets.”

“Uh-oh, Mom and Dad are fighting again,” Jett said, training a video camera back and forth between Quinn and Rae. Chris, hanging another light purple sheet snort-laughed, but looked away quickly at the sight of Quinn’s glare.

“Shut up, Jett,” Rae snapped. Turning her attention back to Quinn she corrected, “They’re not purple , you caveman. They’re lilac.”

“That’s it, take them down,” Quinn said, throwing his arms up. “I can’t sit here and read Sports Illustrated or watch Monday night football surrounded by lilac sheets.”

“How old are you?” Rae asked, now crossing her arms over her chest, one eyebrow raised.

Quinn ignored her and looked at Chris, “Seriously, take them down. We’ll go to Jett’s place and get new ones.”

“Uh, no way!” Rae interjected. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you guys flip through Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition- because I know you’re not actually reading, Quinn- surrounded by Jett’s wet-dream-stained sheets.”

“Hey!” Jett called out defensively.

Rae glared at the camera. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

There was a hesitation before Jett replied, “My mom washes my sheets…”

“That’s gross. You shouldn’t make her wash them. Your mess, you clean it up. ”

A derisive laugh sounded from where Quinn was moving the couch around, “Says the girl who has a whole crew of maids cleaning up after her.”

Rae scoffed, “I don’t make disgusting messes in my bed sheets.”

“Of course not, Princess, what was I thinking?” Quinn replied, a playful smirk to his tone now.

“Don’t start.”

“I say if her highness requests the lilac sheets and twinkly lights, we should do as she says,” Chris chimed in.

“I hate you guys,” Rae dropped her arms to her sides in defeat.

“You’re monopolizing this. I’m the one who started these forts and you guys just want to come in here and take over with your gross boy smell, your swimsuit model magazines, and your stained sheets.

You know what you are? You’re all chauvinists. All of you.”

All three boys were on the brink of bursting out laughing.

“Who said anything about playing Monopoly?” Chris cocked an eyebrow.

Jett asked curiously, “What’s a show-van-ist?”

“Is it like a peasant?” Quinn asked, tilting his head to the side. “Rae, we don’t understand your fancy rich-people lingo. Gotta bring it down to our level, Princess.”

“It means you think you can take over because you’re boys!”

“I think we can take over because...well, you’re outnumbered by boys,” Jett said, then quickly added, “Princess.”

“Stop calling me that!” Rae shouted. She turned toward the stairs and yelled, “Daaaad!”

This brought all the boys’ held-back laughter out and Rae turned and glared at the three of them.

The sound of footsteps made their way down the stairs and a younger Mr. DeRose poked his head into the room, “What is it, Princess?”

At this, the boys all doubled over or collapsed with laughter as Rae sighed heavily, “That was the epitome of being unhelpful. Thank you, Dad. ”

On the couch next to Rae, Quinn was again bursting with laughter, as was her entire family. “I’m sorry, but that’s gold.”

“I forgot what jerks you guys were to me all the time!” Rae exclaimed, though she was also laughing.

“I don’t know why you put up with us,” Quinn said, pulling her closer. He wanted to plant a kiss on her lips but knew everyone was watching.

“She knew you would all do anything for her when it counts,” Charlie cut in. “But see, even your friends could tell you two were like an old married couple.”

“If I remember correctly, we let you keep the purple sheets up,” Quinn said. “Which is what an old married man would’ve done for his wife.”

“You all knew I was right about Jett’s sheets,” Rae said with a laugh.

“You’d probably still be right about Jett’s sheets,” Quinn replied, grinning.

After the video presentation which contained several videos through middle and high school, Quinn ended up sitting around the small fire pit on the patio with Charlie and Josh while Rae, Camille, Margaux, and the kids took Harry out into the yard to play.

"I couldn't believe you two never dated in high school.

" Charlie shook his head. "I waited for it and waited.

This is going to make me sound crazy, but I was expecting to come home and find you two making out on the couch like teenagers do.

I had it all planned out: I was going to act mad and yell at you guys and then tell Rae I needed to talk to you in private, and then once she'd left I was going to congratulate you and tell you to hold onto her because all the other guys she met back then," Charlie made a face. "Do people still call them tools ?"

"I think the term people use now is fuck boy ," Josh cut in, looking about as amused as Quinn felt.

"What? What the hell is wrong with kids?" Charlie chided. "Anyway, I didn't like any of them. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and just point her in your direction and tell her 'There! There's your guy, that's the one!' But Rae's got a mind of her own and she does things how she wants."

Quinn laughed, but looked at Charlie with disbelief. "I had no idea. I mean, I was crazy about her back then, but… I just didn't think I could compete."

"With what? Pop-collared polo shirts and khaki cargo shorts?" Charlie retorted.

Both Quinn and Josh snorted at that. "I remember that look," Josh nodded. "I was more of a 'skinny jeans and a band t-shirt' kind of kid, though."

"I was just a whatever-thrift-store-rags-would-fit kind of kid," said Quinn, looking back at Charlie. "I guess that's why. I had nothing. I came from nothing, my mom was a damn train wreck, and I just...I just knew I wasn't good enough for her."

Charlie shook his head, "No, Quinn, that's crap.

You were the best thing that's ever happened to that girl.

You let her be her , and she didn't get that with anyone else.

You showed her how to care about people for who they were, not what they wore or the cars they drove or what kinds of things they could buy her.

For ten, eleven years, you were her favorite person, even though all you could give her was yourself. "

These were the words Quinn needed to hear, he just hadn't known it until now.

It was as if they hovered at his surface like slowly sinking honey, and they began melting into him until they hit him at his core.

Once he felt the words and knew them to be true, Quinn wasn't sure if he should jump for joy or kick himself for taking so long to catch on.

Feeling the grin creep across his face, Quinn looked up and met Charlie's gaze.

He couldn't get out the words to say thank you, but somehow he felt Charlie knew that's what he'd wanted to say.

Charlie nodded briefly and changed the subject before it could get too heartwarming, "And thank every God there is or ever was that I don't have to put up with that asshole, Emerson, anymore. "

On their way back to the house, Rae teased him with her fingertips skating up and down his thigh as he drove.

She had a light wine-buzz and was playing with fire, thinking he wouldn’t pull the vehicle over and finish what she started.

Somehow he made it into the entryway before shoving her against the front door to close it, slipping his hands beneath her dress and yanking her lacy panties down to her ankles.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked, breathing into the soft skin of her neck. “Trying to get me wild for you so I couldn’t control myself when we got home?”

“I’m not complaining,” Rae said, breathless already, with a mischievous grin as she nipped at his jaw.

“How do you want it?” Quinn ran his mouth down her jaw, her neck, her collar bone. With his hands he cupped her breasts and pushed them up and together so he could trace his tongue along the swell of them.

“It’s my birthday, surprise me,” Rae replied, gasping as he pulled the strapless dress down, exposing her bare breasts.